GrimmFall: Tale of Nowhere
by Zeroth17
Summary: When comparing Nowhere, Kansas, to the other location in the GrimmFall universe, it seem pretty mundane right? Well, allow me to prove you wrong.
1. A Tale of Nowhere

When one coming to Nowhere, Kansas, they find a large empty desert with not even sand to grind on traveling feet. Nearby is a mundane town with a corrupt mayor and surprisingly content townsfolk who simply go their way of life.

Furthest away, is a cropless chicken farm with a massive windmill owned by Eustace Bagge and his wife Murial, along with their purple dog, Courage.

However, this simple land has such a dark past.

390 years ago, 1,945 people, human and Faunus, accused of witchcraft and Fallen were dragged to this barren lands on chained feet and sulfating fear, each one tied to one of the 1,945 stakes that were planted on the dead grounds, each one set ablaze with screams of fear, pain, and horror. The tower of smoke was seen across the country side and maybe the clouds that spread were seen around the world. The bodies were left unmarked and forgotten with the delusional people telling the native tribes that the burnt land was cursed, the tribes, out of respect for the dead, in turn avoided the area.

The one who lead this act was Ernest Bagge, the local elderly priest of the settlement who's fear and paranoia of the Fallen drove him mad and his madness spread to the others. They raided other settlement with help from the local Native Americans who were promised land back from the settlement which was given. They traveled from Massachusetts to where Kansas would stand, a 3 day travel with them stopping periodically for sleep, nutrition, or for the rest room.

23 years later, Ernest's great grandson, Cletus traveled with a number of settlers to what would be known as Kansas to expand on the newly founded America's territory. By then, the burnt out bodies of the 1,945 were buried under plains of dirt with the stakes they were tried from now nothing but mulch, so the travelers built a rural town over the unknown burial ground. One of the settlers jokingly said they should call the town Nowhere, due to the vast uncivilized area surrounding it, but the others, charmed by the joke, named it that.

120 years later, a multitude of people came to Kansas to settle down after the Gold Rush, one of which was Jiles Galette.

Jiles was a simple boy from a family of 13 in Texas, who wanted know wealth and prosperity. There he met a soothsayer who gave him an odd book filled with a great number of mystical tales and spells. When he and his 9 brothers managed to mine $770,000 worth of gold, they moved to New York City for a wealthy home while each of them when their own ways.

Jiles married his childhood sweetheart Ashley who 30 years later due to smallpox, but they had two beautiful kids, Sophie and Dudley who grew up to be successful people. When the next generations of his family became decadent with wealth and fame, Jiles left to Kansas built his farm with a windmill, a complete rarity at the time due to most relying on watermills built by a horde of vandals.

When a great drought rendered the watermills useless, Farmer Galette was the only one with a working mill bring him much more customers and money than most of the farms in Kansas. The vandals despised him for this and wanted to murder Jiles for unintentionally humiliating them.

But Galette keep the vandals at bay by carving magical symbols from the book given to him by the soothsayer on the blades of his windmill. The vandals superstitious believes gave them immense fear of the symbols and left never to be seen again. Legend has it, if the windmill ever stops turning, the vandals will rise from the grave and seek vengeance on all who posses it.

Years after Galette passed away from natural causes, a graveyard for death row convicts was built by the windmill which was abandoned many years later and was a farmhouse was built over the cemetery.

After the civil war ended and the industrial age began, Nowhere could rival Detroit in the industry market, the city becoming famous for the hard labor and harder workers. They even became the one to invent the first energy weapon when an inventor unintentionally weaponized a Tesla Coil, pulverizing an empty horse carriage.

During 2001 however, everything changed.

On one long and arduous day, a Fallen by the name of Atlanaca lead a swarm of Grimm into the town. Due to few Huntsmen and fewer fighters, the town was overwhelmed until many brave civilians took up arms and fought. Despite many casualties, Altanaca and her horde was driven back.

However, for 2 years after that attack, a black storm enveloped the town, it was too thick to enter as it covered even the barren rock fields. After the storm dissipated, a team of Huntsmen was sent in to investigate. The results horrified them and those whom they reported to.

The town sported gutted and internally wrecked buildings with makeshift barricades of barbed wire and wooden planks, used minefields with sot painted everywhere on the streets, and empty gas shells with homemade chemical weapons

They soon found a multitude of dead and alive fighters with oddly anachronistic gear, flak jackets mixed with leather armor and animal skins, the head gear consisting of gasmasks with night-vision googles. Their weaponry was equally anachronistic, laser weapons along with modern and western time firearms, some with dust rounds and others with normal gunpower bullets, one was even carrying a musket from the civil war.

They seemed completely unwilling to give intel on what happened, as the only information that could be gathered was from audio logs, letters, journal entries, and oddly research notes.

Here is some of could be gathered.

This was from a journal found in an apartment building in the hands of a deceased fighter:

"Day 1: The fog came in and... we lost all contact with the rest of the world. James spotted a horde of Grimm on their way but we have time. We're going to raid a gun store and the police department for firearms and gear. Everyone who knows how to handle a gun gets one to join the fight. I pray to Glob We have enough for now to hold them back."

"Day 3: It took 13 hours but we drove them back but not with out some dead and injured. We know they'll be back though, so some military officials allowed us to handle laser weaponry they were delivering when the Grimm attacked. None of them have any idea how long it'll remain, so those above 15 are being trained to handles guns. While I don't like it, we don't really have a choice in the matter as we need all the help we can get. A general is in charge now, so I guess we answer to him until help comes, if it comes."

"Day 7: We took a bad hit today, a flock of Nevermores came down and we could barely hold out. The general assigned a watch post, 13 watch during the day, 13 watch during the night. The kids and civilians are scared out of their minds and I don't blame them, I'm scared too."

"Day 12: We're running low on supplies and we don't have enough to repair the riot suits we stole, so we had to get creative. The suits have been mixed with animal skins and leather armor and belts. We're also running low on power cells, so while the scientist make more, we're getting regular guns, old Winchester repeaters and double barrels from the old times, I know regular bullets aren't that effective on the Grimm but we got enough to last us months. I'm gonna be on the night shift for tonight, let's hope things are gonna go smoothly."

"Day 23: We're out of dust rounds so we had some people raid the dust depots to make more. Thankfully, we've got another weapon to use. The scientists have been using cleaning supplies and poison dust to make homemade chemical weapons. We will be the first ones to test them when The Grimm come back. Everyone's losing hope though, and if I'm gonna be honest... So am I. Ugh, I need a freaking drink."

"Day 26: It worked! The chemical weapons killed the Grimm before they could even reach us! Everyone cheered so much our throats went raw, and we drank show much I blacked out. Thankfully, we got plenty of the chemical weapons left, so we can relax for now."

"Day 57: 7 civilians just died from illness. At first, we didn't know what was gonna one before the scientists said the disease was made due to our abuse of the chemical weapons. Now, everyone's under ground while the ones sent above ground have to where gasmasks as it's transmitted through the respiratory systems. The people coming down have to go through a decontamination process, just to be sure. I really am starting to get worried."

"Day 89: The General is dead. He used a suicide bomb when the Grimm cornered him. His Lieutenant has taken over after the Grimm suddenly left. Glob, I'm so freaking scared, man."

"Day...I don't remember: We've been spread thin. Me and a few others are holed up in this apartment as lookouts. While the disease is gone, we're not taking any chances. I want this to be just some bastard nightmare but it's not. I just hope that if hope comes, it'll be a megaton."

"Day ?: To anybody who finds this, I'm probably dead. We've been overwhelmed, and I don't know how long until I'm next. Hannah, I love you but I never had the guts to say so, I love mom, I love you dad. I'm gonna miss the rest of the world. But we took out Atlanaca, so at least I could help with that.

I've only got a few rounds left and I'm stuck here in this apartment, so looks like I'm staying here for tonight. But if today's my last day, all I can say is

**DON'T. TRUST. SEBBEN.**

This is Di Lung, signing out."

This note was found in the elementary school on the desk of the principle:

D7: Entryway to bunker. Password: 3846

E7: Armory. Password: 9287

F7: Supply room. Password: 2501

When the teams investigated the bunker, it was full of hysterical civilians of various ages, most suffering from malnutrition. Upon investigating the armory and supply room, both room were empty expect for a body near an empty box of flan. The autopsy revealed the person died of starvation.

This was from an audio log from one of the scientists who was found dead unground with a pistol in his mouth:

"To those who find this recording, I am Dr. Jericho Vindaloo. We have been cut off from the rest of the world for approximately 784 days. We have had continuous attack by the Grimm at a random span of time, the shortest being 4 hours, the longest being 3 months.

We held them back for as much as we can but we have had trouble with resources so if a patient come in I am forced to compensate if I can provide. What I do know is the only thing keeping us from devolving into cavemen is that the town's dust generator can last for at least another 7 years.

The other doctors have been making whatever they can to help the fighter above even if it's not much. At some points, we made things worse.

The chemical weapons we made caused many aliments and diseases to mutate beyond anything in medical record, thankfully however, they died of after 4 weeks. But at that point, the civilians became too paranoid to go above ground.

But while above ground studying weather patterns, we discovered something strange. There were highways very near Nowhere's entry road. That should not have been possible as the entry road to Nowhere is at least 30 miles away from any local highway, so we naturally sent a team to investigate.

We link a camera to each of their suits as to see what they saw, they drive a Ford 12 miles out and they approached what appeared to be a destroyed and desecrated GrimmFall.

There were skeletons everywhere, Nevermores pecking at remains through the buildings, but what caught our eyes was a banner that read

'HAPPY NEW YEAR, GRIMMFALL! 2054!'

We were stuck in the future. Most of us panicked but I managed to calm them down, the team returned and we agreed no to speak of it.

If anyone finds this message, I am content. As I will know if we came back or someone survived. All I can say is

**DON'T. TRUST. SEBBEN.**

This is Dr. Jericho Vindaloo, signing off.

The tape ended with the sound of a pistol cocking.

243 people were taken to GrimmFall for treatment and temporary or permanent housing, while Nowhere was demolished and rebuilt.

No one knows what happened in those 2 years, but I believe perhaps it is better left unsaid.

Eustace and Muriel Bagge soon moved into Galette's farm the following month and found Courage after he was rescued from a mad doctor who viewed sending dogs into space as a way to make 'Super Dogs.'

Due to new people moving into Nowhere after the disappearance in 2001, not many know of the horrors that befell that seemingly simple town.

And perhaps not knowing is best when it comes to when you're in Nowhere.

* * *

**Just some thing I had way to much fun writing. Please, review and make some theories.**


	2. Birth of GOLB

**Hey, Guys!**

**I felt I could to a little better with this, so I rewrote somethings.**

**And I am aware of the conflicting histories, but I don't care. It's your choice to think about how it'll fit.**

* * *

Beyond the parts of the visible islands in an ocean of void that is the universe, there sits something that breathes discord and ungodliness. Idly sitting in a seat of empty space, relaxed yet ponderingly, it shifts it's breath in puffs of malignant potency swirling through space till it engulfs an unsuspecting world.

This being is GOLB.

Before there was time, before there was anything, there was nothing. And before there was nothing, before the first universe, before the concept of light and dark itself, there was the birth of GOLB.

With the birth of the Original Being, his breathe gave the nothing form, gave it the energy and elements of all things, singing an evergrowing song of life. Then the song would quiet and the form would rot away, but GOLB kept breathing and with each breathe the song and form would grow bigger and louder until they grew into the first universe.

The first universe was chaotic and filled with discord, an ever persistent yet stalemated battle where each army crashed into one another like a thundering ocean of planets, the stars burned and the galaxies spun, a neverending cosmic storm.

Then the storm quieted, the ocean grew calm, the stars burned quiet, and the spinning galaxies slowed.

A new concept was born, not of chaos but calmness, not of loudness but silence, where the things born from the planets and stars could see an idea where they could be more than machines, Order.

Those born of the stars wished to have those who live to have lives long and prosperous not short and shed with blood, to build not destroy. They were the Lords of Order. They taught all living things of the stars and the ethereal that flowed through to shape their world as they chose. For a time, all was peaceful and serene, the first race to take to the stars, the Ceimari, built grand cities of starlight with technology that was undistinguishable from magic, where they did nothing but flourish. The Ceimari found many other realms birthing from GOLB's breathe, theirs lives extended to indefinite, their loyalty to the Lords of Order undying.

The Ceimari were an odd race, they were white humanoids that were absolutely angelic, they wore armor of light and gold, their eyes gleaming like the stars of the universe. If any human were to see a Ceimari, they would not ever able to shake the awe they saw in this race of angels.

Through many years, the Ceimari became masters of crafting life. Grown in crystal pods or enchanced by the apothecaries of science, race after race were born from the Ceimari, viewing them as gods. In time, many Ceimari grew arrogant and careless, creating the Seeds of Life, pods of pure genetic potency that would collect data from the planet and created a race that would be best suited to live on said planet.

Hundreds of races grew for the planets beyond the longest of reaches, expanding their empire beyond what eyes could see. The Ceimari then had their labor done with robots of self-repairing crystal, causing them to grow decadent and apathic in unimaginable luxury. For one trillion years, their empire was left unchallenged with the angelic beings living as gods.

Then came the Negrul.

Tall, spindling humanoids with a gaping maw on a featureless face, a waxy chrome carapace, a rose-like heart with tubular cartilage veins carrying grey pulping ichor, clustered circulatory of an electrical fluid acting as nerves, multiple redundant organs and veins, large heat, light, and sound detecting 'sensors' in their muscles acting as sight and hearing, a series of tumor-ish sacks contain pluripotent cells, and odd wire like hair. Should they be threatened, their veins extend outwards firing a corrosive liquid filled with enzymes.

Their race filled with loathing, as while they built many great cities with wonderous technology, they would stare up to the cities of starlight with nothing but contempt and jealousy. The planet they grew from orbited a green star unquiescing it in radiation, cursing them with short lives and shorter hopes. Their tombs outsized and outweighed their cities and their pleas for the secrets of everlasting life was laughed off by the Ceimari and their allies, with their contemptment grown into animosity, they swore holy revenge on the followers of Order.

The Negrul quickly realized, through a landslide defeat, that despite that they were able to take to the stars, manually conquering every planet of an empire that had much more advanced technology was absolutely improbable and tedious, so they planned a superweapon of sorts to slay the Ceimari.

They soon discover a planet in vast edges of the universe coated in a veil of blackness, the surface filled obsidian mountains and tar-like water, the clouds storming with booming claps and crimson lighting. They found no sapience nor sentience, so the planet was soon mined dry of this blackness and taken to the Negrul for study.

They found that the blackness responded to and molded itself around their animosity, creating armor and weapons as well as empowering them with immortality and dark powers. Toying with this blackness, they made cities that blotted their sun and monsters large as mountains

Ura, the leader of the Negrul, forged a horrific sword from the blackness. Tempered in the flames of stars and unquenched in the tar waters, came the blade the universe would dread.

_**ALL-BLACK.**_

Filled with a rage and will never thought imaginable, they began their war on the Ceimari.

The Ceimari were informed of their intentions by a humble silicate species known as the Silmarils. At first, the Ceimari were undaunted, sending their most loyal warrior races to fight. Those races were defeated with a single slash from All-Black.

They then sent their war machines to fight, equipped with light cannons and reality benders. Those were defeated in a matter of minutes.

Laughing at their failed attempts, the Negrul took to the stars, wanting nothing but Ceimari blood.

It was nothing short of annihilation. The cities of starlight lite ablaze with dark flame, quintillions of species were reduced to ash, planets corroding and collapsing, stars burning out, and entire galaxies spun until unwoven.

The Ceimari were reduced from trillions to thousands, and thousand to tens within only ten years of battle. The cruelest of Negrul would use the blackness to reanimate the fallen Ceimari, coined as the Denarii.

Seeing the chaos of old returning, the Lords of Order took action and crafted armies of light to combat the Negrul, they persisted for millennia after millennia but it was merely a stalemate.

The remaining Ceimari, who survived the universal massacre of their species, decided the universe was too corrupted and that they must start over with them ascending as new Lords of Order. They built a weapon, the Lumina Sulita, a city-sized spear of pure light, and cast into the universe.

It's light purged the universe of all life except their own, each race reduced to the ashes they were born, with the Negrul and their machines and monsters of war reduced to a repugnant blackness. All-Black fell from Ura's hands as he was aiming to the Ceimari homeworld, wrapping itself in a coat of blackness as it fell through the void, never to be rediscovered.

They celebrated but the Lords of Order, outraged at the Ceimari's callousness, removed their longevity, soon weakening and rotting till they were nothing but dust. The stars soon burnt away, the husk of structure rotted, the Lords of Order sleep.

The first universe was now dead. Expect a growing few.

The Ceimari's still working cities flowed through the void, self evolving, self modifying, till they coalesced into a planet of machines soon to be named Cybertron.

Same with their robots of crystal, absorbing and growing with all the mineral from their fallen brethren and creators, till they all combined into a planet of crystal through life there did not come for many eons.

The remaining Seeds of Life and many ships biological mutagens and genetic enhancers bombarded one last planet, that planet was known as Ni'Rah.

Beyond the universe, beyond the void, GOLB laughed.

Unknown to the universe, GOLB was dissatisfied with the order poisoning his created and in his imaginative space, he spat out a planet of unlight into the universe, knowing one would be tempted.

Life began and ended, again and again, repeating more times than our math can measure. Why has life ended even through the Negrul are gone?

Simple. They are not.

The hatred and rage festered in the darkness for so long, it gave life to the blackness, forming nameless shapes and things not fathomable whilst GOLB watches.

GOLB himself is an enigma even to those that know his name. A being that sowed discord and unrest not out spite or entertainment, he simply did it. He doesn't enjoy suffering as he simply can't care, as if GOLB was the very machination of evil it's self, a simple force of nature.

And if his name brought fear, imagine the terror, the blind, unreasoning panic that rips through the people of the universe. A million and more alien eyes look upon he who is GOLB, and for each eye, the vision differs. For GOLB truly is beyond what a feeble one would call flesh and blood. They are as the one made them and each mind struggles the best it can to see that unguessable force as something that can be comprehended. Perhaps a reflux of GOLB, perhaps a mind trying to understand something so infinite, they cannot imagine it.

To the Children of Oberon, he is a red lump-ish figure with a cubic head with a pyramid atop it, four green deranged eyes, a gaping mouth with a forked purple tongue long and tentacle-like.

To the Akiridions, he was a humanoid of dark circuited skin and blue energy, a face of only two slanted eyes, tendrils of light swaying ready to strike an unrecoverable blow.

To the Cybertronians, he was a machine of lank with semi-organic parts and patterns strewn along the otherworld-ish matter, a machine face with rat-trap mouth and tripled steel eyes.

To the Gems, he was a mass of conjoined humanoids of multicolored crystalline with red diamonds spread across in random parts in a plant-ish shape with thorn tendrils.

To the Glorft, it was a featureless black humanoid with tentacle-like limbs. It's webbed extensions protrude from it's back like wings. A rythemic pulsing and shifting, a green surge through its veins.

To The Irkens, it's an amebic creature with centipede features and many shades of pink, purple, and red. It had a horrific face of many dull eyes and piller-like fangs among a gaping maw. An expanding light and viscous fluids run rampant through its beating form like a heart.

To the Fallen, it was a mass of red light with dark clouds around it in the shapes of feathered and leathered wings, A crimson radiance with sparkling slickness of the clouds. The clouds storm-like and red flares of lighting shoot through the skies like a dampened flame.

And to humanity, the Faunus, and the Mobians, it has a cephalopod-like head with a radiant red mouth, many black tentacles covering said mouth, and 3 sets of glowing green eyes. It has a black humanoid body with many eyes and mouths so tiny, they appear as dots and slivers upon the segmented and terrifying body. The hands are claws with burning intent, and massive wings that will cause storms when they flap.

No mortal being can see his true form, what they see is something complex yet easy to comprehend. Anymore would drive any mortal into a madness worse than death.

In time long dead, one naïve philosopher dared to record a perceived form, he screamed and trembled, writing both of the universe along with a phrase that is humanities only knowledge of GOLB.

"By the pricking of mine thumb, something wicked this way comes. Then rang the bells both loud and deep, God is not dead nor doth he sleep."

Even vigintillions of eons passed, GOLB is here and he is impatient.

Even though he had destroyed universe after universe, perhaps this time...perhaps this time, he may fail.


	3. Absolation

In the lifeless ruins of GrimmFall stirred the Absolation.

A black, viscous liquid that ate and dissolved and fused whatever it touched or sensed. With random stones fusing with dust mites or arachnids mixing with snakes, it takes and makes whatever it feels. As it slid down the ruined walls and broken ways, pieces of variable size fell away with them touching so many wonderful things.

On a broken pillar was a dead crow impaled on the rebar with the Absolation leaving droplets behind on it's pestilent riddled feathers and frozen open mouth. The pieces spread with small tendrils, they ate the feathers and beak with the rest disappearing in liquid void. The rebar was next, small tendrils connecting like the webs of the Jorogumo before enlarge and coalescing into a cocoon-like ball.

The pillar was slowly consumed with the liquid as it disappeared in the growing bulge of Absolation.

After an hour of growing the bulge hardens with spikes extending to guard it, it's surface scale-like with crystal growths and anchoring spikes. Deep red and green beats a heart of unnaturalism and body of void.

The hard bulge grew brittle, the pieces fell away, revealing the new creation of Absolation.

A 20 foot tall cross of Nevermore and Griffon with upward fraying rebar and concrete instead of bone spikes and plates, hook-like fangs resting in a mouth with a tri-pronged clawed tongue.

It shot itself into the twilighting sky, cracking the surface where it was birthed, unaware that it would give life to another.

* * *

In the lower floors of the building, laid the corpse of a 24 year old Asian woman hanging from ropes around the neck, arms, legs, and torso with an old camera hanging by the strap around it's neck. It hung from a ruined railing with some of the ropes being wires cutting into it's flesh.

From the cracks came Absolation, clinging and spreading like a malignity.

It clung to the ropes and wires, slowly pulling the corpse of the woman upwards by the feet. When the feet meet the ooze, they slid down it's legs like the liquid void it is.

As the Absolation worked to the body, arms, and head, it reached the camera, pulling it into itself. Maybe it can make due with this. The ropes and wires tangled in a cocoon-like fashion as tendrils of Absolation crawl from the face and onto the camera, each tendrils combining with each other as they consumed the camera and pulled into a cocoon.

The cocoon hardened with the same scales, crystals, and anchoring spikes growing.

After an hour, the cocoon brittles. The scales flake away, sulfate steams away the liquid, the shell cracks as left over Absolation leaks like a waterfall before slithering away as the new Grimm emerged.

It appeared as a female body arched backwards on its back sitting on top of a stitched-together pelvis with three knife-like legs while its head is composed of an old, perhaps overly long, large format camera with a weaponized flash bulb. Each limb held together by ropes and wires with the camera head acting snake-like and nonuniformly as it moans softly and honeyish, cooing like a mother to their child.

Somewhere it's head whimpered a scared and frantic woman, screaming yet she had no mouth.

A squeak was heard, her head swerved to a mouse Grimm that scurried along the floors. Hungry consumed her as she silently crept to the mouse Grimm with her bladed legs scrapping on hard stone.

The mouse Grimm noticed and fled around her, with her failing to stab at it, again after again.

When the use of her knife legs failed, she got so mad her camera flashed.

She suddenly saw that it didn't move, in fact, the air around it didn't move. Neither the dust, nor the sound, not even the light.

But she didn't care. Mouth popped open on her hands as many wire-like tongues shoot out and impale the mouse Grimm, suckling the Dark Substance from it till it disappears.

She was shocked, scared, and disgusted all at once. She looked at her hands with her camera face, wanting to weep but she had no tear ducts, wanting to grit but she had no teeth, wanting to sniffle but she had no nose.

With only one thought, steadily repeating like a repeating yet working record.

_**"I have no mouth and I must scream."**_


	4. The Reaper Cometh

In the ruins of GrimmFall, in the dark and cold everlasting nights with uncommon blazes of red and quaking thunder, was the corpse of an everyman.

This everyman's corpse was strung on the downed or crashed powerlines, exposed wire with unconnected electrics. Large section of necrosis ridden meat hung like organic cloths, exposing the internal organs and plagued bones, hanging over a massive pool of Absolation.

A dove-sized Nevermore landed on his throat, it's claws dig into the green rotting skin while it's head tilted curiously. It digs it's beak into a gash on the neck, while steadily pulling as the gash widens before a slab of flesh pulls off in it's beak.

The small Nevermore flies off with a claw severs another powerline.

Suddenly, more lines break as a gargantuan aircraft on a building shifted with metallic screeches as it fell into the side of another building, a back panel cracks open as hundreds of crates of Green and Purple Dust spill out, falling to the massive Absolation pool.

The crates burst open with the Green and Purple Dust raining down like snow into the pool, the everyman's body falls while being retangled in more powerlines. The purple and green dust crystals fall by the millions as the pool eats more and more dust with it boiling with energy.

In a flash, the pool blazes with green and purple lightning. The streaks slice through the buildings as they arc, giving light long lost in the destroyed world.

The streaks break the wires, making the everyman's body fall head first into a slab of stone in the pools before tumbling over and falling in the pool, with only the rotted right arm left unsubmerged.

Green and Purple energy surges the arm as it seizes. The pool of Absolation boiled, as the remaining dust crystals submerge into the pool. The lightning recedes as the hand falls back onto the stone slab.

Suddenly, small tendrils crawl up the arm, entering the wounds and the stripped away sections, coating it in a liquid blackness. The uncovered parts begin twitching, jerking, spasming.

As the hand coats entirely, the liquid hardens. A shell of bone spikes and black flesh form as the arm sinks into the pool.

Hours or days later, a humanoid emerges from the pool, staggering and twitching.

It looked horrific. A lean black androgynous human with red pronounced veins, some small spikes of bone, patches pale skin like third-degree burns and keloid scars. It's head had virulent red eyes and a mouth of razor-like teeth.

It was now a Reaper.

It let out a horrific wail as it trudged through the darkness, blindly and unfocused.

Suddenly, the darkness lifted. Lines drawn and paths made, it sees the perpetual lightless days as mere overcast clouds. The Parkinson's-like twitching fades and the staggering limb in it's legs reset. It tests the left leg before continuing it's trek in the endless black.

It trekked through ruined towns nearby littered with an malaise of hopelessness and dread, crumbled bricks, bent steel, and splintered wood, haphazardly used as makeshift barriers tied with barbed wire.

The dark substance he steps in, putty-like and concerningly benign.

Each crushed and gutted building angled paralleled in vertical sways, as if cowering from an uncouth, unseen force unfamiliar to this planet.

A crash. He turns around startled, nothing happened for a few seconds. He slowly pulls out his repeater and slowly reloads it, a prudent scrapping down the end of the halls, guttural moaning echoed through the dark sulfated air.

The Reaper slowly paced backwards lethargically, it's eyes darting across the field of it's sight patently.

Hard, strong, and deep footsteps slowly invaded it's ears, it scrambles under an empty porch using a large stab of wood to cover the opening.

The footsteps grew in sound and pace, closer and faster. The incessant beating on solid ground hammering through it's ears. The footsteps growing louder and louder, sometimes pausing, changing pace or direction, but still growing louder.

It stops.

The Reaper has the courage to attempt to peer outwards from under the porch and large slab of wood. Methodically breathing as it's eyes lay on the culprit of the footsteps.

It was a Fallen in the form of a Grimm. Or more accurately, a Fallen in the form of a spider Grimm the size of a house.

The body's frame was muscular yet liquescent, it's bramble-like fur swaying, floating, deforming, and reforming as if like liquid blades of grass, each joint an orb of crystalline scarlet, each leg tipped with a curved, jagged, and shrapnel-like blade. The head and thorax coated in ceramic plates, hard as metal yet white as porcelain. The head sporting 6 eyes of radiant crimson, a wide maw-like grin of porcelain fangs, lastly with two pair of tusk-like mandibles sat on the edges of the mouth.

The Reaper waited in it's crouched position while it's darting eyes scan the scouring arachnid. The two sat in silence with an eminent tension building, the arachnid's liquescent fur brushed through the toxic waste-ridden wind and the Reaper's eager yet cautious posture held in under the ruined house.

Then it broke.

A thick thread of purple webbing speared at the Reaper, whom dodged and landed on a pillar of wood balancing on one foot. The spider fired another thread as the Reaper leaped off the pillar, it's legs now resembling grasshoppers as it leaps from spot to spot as the spider kept shooting silk threads.

The Reaper leaps straight into the air, then it's claws extended to absurd lengths, impaling the side of it's enemy's thorax. The Spider screeches in pain as the claws retract, the wounds then sealed as it leaped to a further spot.

Crouching on the ground, the Reaper sprinted as it grabs a pair of Uzis from a random skeleton and opened fire at the eyes of the spider. The gigantic arachnid's shell barely stopped the bullets while it continued firing threads of silk as the Reaper kept dodging.

One thread of silk tags the Reaper's arm, the spider then yanks the thread slamming it into the ground. The Reaper shakes it off but the thread was still latched on it's arm, even as it pulled on the thread and fired on the spider whom pulled in the opposite ways.

Suddenly, the skin on it's arm shed akin to removal of a glove, simultaneously taking the gun in it's hand.

It stared at it's hand white, deflated, and soft as the wet skin, dried, inflated, and darkened. Just in the moment as another thread struck it's torso, only for the skin on said torso to peel off and new skin grew in instantly.

The Reaper dodged the latest tread and fired the Uzi at the spider, then it ran out of bullets. The spider fired another thread, the Reaper dodged again, only for it to body slam the humanoid creature into a web on another house.

The Reaper struggled and roared against the webs as the arachnid Grimm fired more threads that cocooned the rest of it's skin so it could nott shed. The spider Grimm approached the web, fangs ready and dripping with venom.

Suddenly, the webs calcified and broke apart, revealed the Reaper had changed once more. It now possessed a black plate-like carapace with needle-like spines, serrated claws and fangs, and normal legs.

The spider Grimm instantaneously began firing more threads but the Reaper simply evaded and slashed them apart with it's claws.

Screeching in fury, the Reaper fired all the spines from it's shell, hitting the spider in various places as it screeched in pain. Suddenly, the spikes grew to pillar sizes while emitting an orange luminescence.

The spider Grimm screeched in momentless fear as the spines detonated, decimating the street they resided on with the humanoid barely escaping the vicinity of the blast.

Seeing the life it now claimed, the Reaper roared in victory.

The sound bellowing through the dry ocean of blackness in tandems with blazing wind and clouds of ash, the Spider Grimm's fragments reassembling to human form and escaping while it's presence to the Reaper was unnoticed.

* * *

_**Grimm Database:**_

***NEW GRIMM DISCOVERED***

**Name: ****Reapers**

**Species: Humanoid**

**Threat: Omega**

**Abilities:** **Reapers physically adapt to any situation or whatever harms them, either becoming highly resistant or completely immune to their current obstacle or their opponent's abilities and skills. They also develop countermeasures and defenses while facing opponents. Lastly, they have the ability to regenerate from any injury even if they are reduced to mulch.**

* * *

**A/N: This is my first time writing an action scene for GrimmFall. Tell me what you like.**


	5. Hunger and Will

Under the snow lathered ruins of GrimmFall, there were so few left. The streets rewinded to gambrel origins while the endless lathering snow pelted softly from the layered natural stonework of olden times. The building rendered hollow and minimalist, bodies of the long dead laid in orgiastic patterns, layered or unlayered, the footprints of those still living swept and covered with the endless snow.

Those left either mined for Dust to restock the dust generators, gathered what little they could to make anything resemble the lost sense of comfort for those they hold dear, or to simply give up and begin a trek to the old ruins of Empire City, where a rumored 'Black Palace of Endless Pleasure' laid.

One of the second examples was under an old farmer's market, once thriving with customers and wealth until the end came. Under the store, beyond the abandoned rusted shelves, and the unstocked delivery areas, in a bunker decorated with dirt mottled rags and decayed clothing, was a 20 year old woman and her 23 year old brother.

The sister was quite beautiful, short black hair with unflawed face and a shapely figure, though she was in a horrific state. Her legs amputated from horrid frostbite and her hands nearly crippled, she neared blindness and her hearing slowly faded, her only locution was dragging her self across the floor.

The brother was gruff and hardened, waist length black hair with an unkept beard and mustache, doing what little he could to give comfort to his ailing sister knowing she had little time left.

He would go out and murder survivors to provide for both of them, be it clothing and food, sometimes unchaining morality to collect the bodies of the dead for sustenance. Eventually, they got used to eating people as much as they loathed it, though in such times, one must do what they must to survive.

On this day though, he has been gone for hours. The sister dragged herself out of her bed of many uncouth rags to the flaming barrel, eating the last of a box of saltine crackers. She looked and dragged herself to the stairway where her brother usually arrived on snow covered boots with an assortment of supplies so they could live.

The sister would often ask why. Why would they want to keep living in this lifeless hellhole? Why would he continue caring about her, though she had little time left?

He would smile and say, "Because you're family. And when I just want to savor the time we have."

That was enough to keep her going, knowing that her big brother was there even in the darkest times. But he should have been back by now.

Hours passed, she continued to stare at the stairway, starting to get worried and maybe hungry. Her body positioned at the door frame of the bunker akin to a small child peeking at a conversation between disgruntled parents.

Suddenly, a crash. She flinched and looked the ceiling, gunshots rang and mixed over inhuman screechs and very human screams. Footsteps crunched over the ceiling, the loud thud of two human bodies crashing onto the metal floors.

A gunshot.

A secondary gunshot.

A tertiary gunshot.

A feral screeching, a loud slam, additional slams akin to rainfall, a softer series of footsteps from one side to the opposite side.

A harder and faster series of footsteps from the same direction as the previous series of footsteps.

Another gunshot.

A screech, a hard slam, and a series of thuds as something came through the vents.

The thuds through the vents travel down as a queer object falls near her.

It was a right arm, severed at the elbow, but the limb was unusual. It was ebony with red pronounced veins, small bone spikes, and a patch of ivory skin resembling a keloid scar or third degree burn.

The sister took the severed limb into her hands, her near sightlessness and crippled hands obscuring her to truth of the limb's nature. She briefly pondered if it was a piece of meat her brother sent down the vents to hold off her hunger.

Deciding to wait for her sibling a moment more, she continued to cradle the limb in her arms as she sits in the lenient doorframe and wait.

Hours and hours passed, he still had not returned.

The sister was starving, the saltine crackers being the last of the food in the bunker while the brother was gone. She felt around the severed limb, blood still wet and meat still tender.

Unable to restrain her blinding hunger, she sunk her awaiting teeth into the arm.

She hacked violently, the meat tasted of a bitter and metallic pulp with a noxious ichor akin to tattered paste, but she pushed the festering reluctance out of herself and took another bite.

An hour later, the pulped remains of the arm resided in the sister's grateful stomach, bone and claw included. She laid her satisfied back on the cleated doorframe with a pool of dark blood and saliva beside her hip, the result of her gag reflex overtaking her hunger.

The sister's breath echoed as the singular sound in the bunker besides the crackling fire in the old rusted barrel as she fell soundly asleep.

Unknown to her, cells from the severed arm spread through her body, along with the components broken down by her digestive enzymes. They spread through her arteries, bone marrow, and remaining muscles, finally reaching her nerves endings.

The sister awoke in a scream akin to screeches of metal, clutching her abdomen as an unfathomable pain spread through her body. Muscles contorted, bones strained, organs pulped, blood boiled, and skin tore as she gripped her hands on the floor, still screaming.

Slowly, the pain faded as her muscles uncontorted, bones unstrained, blood cooled, and skin resealed, she breathed out a steaming sigh of relief as her head fell to the metal floor softly.

It was then she noticed the crackling of the fire had grown in volume and luminescence. She swung her head towards the rusting barrel in fear that it had spread from the interior of the barrel, only to witness the listless flame had not exceeded the container's limit.

Blinking, she then noticed that she saw and hear the room and sounds around it in perfect clarity. The fine details of sense which she had been denied from her ailments was now clear as the word could suffice.

Each singular individual weave, each flake of skin, and each vein flowing with oxygen-filled blood. Each whirl of machinery, crackle of fire at the gaping air, and footstep against the metal floor.

Her attention was then focused on her hands, for the feeling of the heldering limbs began to differ. She felt the numbness and immovability that plagued her for an untold number of years recede as nerves in her crippled hands rebuilt and remodeled, the severed tendons in her wrists reconnected, and the scars of self inflicted wounds reabsorbed into her previously necrotizing hands.

The woman stared at her restored hands, opening and closing them experimentally, in disbelief.

Suddenly, there was a pressure on her damaged legs. Turning her head to her lower half, only for a gasp to escape from her lips. A large mass of tissue issued from her legless thighs, firstly clusters of nerves, then masses of bone marrow, and finally the soft tissues. Just as fastly, tissues formed into the calves, then the fibula and tibia, then the foot, and finally the toes.

The marrow hardened, the clusters buzzed, and the muscles strengthened. The skin flowed over, the veins flooded with blood, the tendons reconnected, and the bones held.

The sister could only stare at her newly regrown legs in awefilled eyes, then doing something she hadn't done in so long.

She laughed.

She laughed frothing joy and relief, clutching the limbs she lost years ago. Grabbing onto the nearest and lowest shelf, she pulled herself up to the empty bed of the metal shelf. The woman grabbed another shelf and lifted herself upright, then planting one of her returned feet to the floor.

The sister yelped, pulling back her foot at the cold burn of the steel floor. She then pants in pleasure at the feeling of the cold on her foot, setting it to the floor again only for her not to feel the cold.

She blinked, planting her other foot on the floor only it to feel the cold neither. Standing on her two feet, she wobbled taking her first few steps then it felt as though they were a part of her for years. For the next hour and a half, she walked, ran, jumped, and did acrobatics around the bunker.

Then an idea entered her head, one that she both desired and dreaded; As she could now walk, she could find her brother.

But what if he was dead? What if all that she would find is his bloodied corpse? The sister thought over this questions but she made up her mind and decided to find him regardless. She looked at the stairwell and had a determined expression, ascending out of the bunker.

As she ascended the cold stairs of the bunker, the stinging of the blizzard air faded, feeling as if her skin was a thick coat. Looking down, she gasped. She was naked but her skin became a thick grey leather hide with ivory shaded grey fur from the neck down, and short needle-ish claws issued from her fingertips.

The woman looked at herself in shock, she didn't remember undressing or feeling the fur or claws grow in. That said, she was grateful that they did, as with them, the cold razor wind seemed as the lost and gentle summer breeze.

Making her way out of the abandoned store, the sister found herself in the snow lathered streets with only alit gaslines and still working lights from maintained dust generators providing the long lost sense of day in this dark and cold ruin. Her footsteps issued a crunch in the snow as she explored the ruins of GrimmFall.

A roar and scream, the latter human and the former inhuman, pierced her heightened hearing. Turning herself to their direction, she ran towards the sounds, maneuvering around whatever obstacle with grace she never performed in her life, yet she performed with easy akin to breathing.

There, bloodied and scared, was her brother running from the most horrific Grimm she'd ever seen. It was a 12 foot tall humanoid laxed in a carapace of obsidian, it's eyes and mouth burning red, steam bellowing from it throat.

The sister grabbed a pole of rebar and threw it like a spear at the humanoid's head.

It glided through the air and pierced it's right eye through the nose. The humanoid Grimm screeched in pain, grabbing the pole and pulling it out of it's head while the sister grabbed the brother and ran off.

With her brother barely conscious, she hid him by some shelter made of rubble. Turning back, she saw the humanoid Grimm pulling out the rebar spear, it's right eye regenerated while a liquid flowed over both eyes then quickly hardened into clear lids of armored carapace.

It moved and in a flash, her left arm was severed before she could even react. The sister screened in pain before another flash and she found herself flying into some rubble.

Dizziness and nausea flooded her brain to where she couldn't resister forwards and backwards. Then it was as if it all flushed out of her system and her sense sharpened to a point.

She screeched at a sudden pain then seeing her fur bristled together then melting into a black shell, it then separated into a series of segments and plates, the flesh between the plates grew in a thicker variant of her fur. Another pain from her left shoulder, to where she saw a mass of black tissue forming into her lost arm.

When the tissues formed into the lost limb, it had changed significantly. The new limb was massive with bulging muscles, larger plates, and serrated curved claws in place of fingers.

Before she could look at the new arm in shock, the sister saw the humanoid Grimm charging towards her, intending for a final strike. It swung it's fist at the sister, only for her engorged arm to catch it.

Suddenly, the engorged muscles grew larger as they glowered red as she roared in rage. In a flash, the obsidian carapace ripped away in chunks while flesh and bone practically vaporized in a waves of red.

The sister blinked as she stared the altered limb with wave of red on the palm, only whispering, "Woah."

She then ran back to where she hide her brother, snow crunching as she race through the dark that now seemed clear as day. When she found him still unconscious, she heaved her brother over her shoulders and carried him back to their bunker.

On her way back, the engorged limb shed itself from her arm which formed one symmetrical to her right arm. While she'd be shocked, she was too happy that she found her brother to care.

As she ended the store, her brother stared to wake up. She gently set him down by a counter as while he was still groggy while she checked around for any food left on the old shelves.

The brother's eyes opened to see something. Silently and not questioning how he was back in the store, he grabbed his gun and slowly backed away to the bunker while opening the door to it.

Then he realized was it was. Something that both elated and hollowed him. His sister, his little sister, was now a 6 foot tall woman covered in thick grey fur and black carapace, but her legs were back and her eyes glowed orange in the pale finite light.

"Sara?" The brother asked, his voice rasped and hollow.

Sara turned around and gasped, "Jack!" She said excitedly as she kneeled down to him.

"Y-You...You..." Jack could barely get out a word as he ran a hand over his sister's fur and carapace.

"Oh..." Sara only said as she realized what he means.

Jack could only look over Sara, his sister, the sister he carried and cared for years, was now a monster.

For some reason, this struck him as unbearably funny and before he could stop himself or put down his gun, he found himself laughing uncontrollably. It was painful laughing so hard, but he couldn't stop, even to catch his breath, not even when he started to slide down the stairs.

Clawed yet gentle fingers wrapped around his arms, pulling him back into place and, when he proved unable to sit up on his own, Jill pulled him onto her lap and held him tight against her chest. It was all hard carapace and thick fur. He could feel things twitching beneath her skin, her heart and blood flowing through her new form.

Whispering wordless reassurances, Sara ran her fingers through his hair until laughter gave way to sobs.

* * *

_**Grimm Database:**_

***NEW GRIMM DISCOVERED***

**Name: Delta Reapers**

**Species: Subspecies of Reapers**

**Threat: Omega**

**Delta Reapers are survivors who ate Reaper flesh. They gain the adaptive and regenerative powers of the Reapers, which can be strengthened though injury, poisoning, or exposure to hazardous chemicals or conditions. This eventually turns Delta Reapers' bodies into a monstrous form, due to their adaptations providing ways to defend themselves better, not merely passive defenses.**


	6. The Warp

**Warning: This chapter may conflict with canon. Depending on your POV.**

**Also, this may confuse you if you don't know anything about Warhammer 40k. And thank you for 500 views!**

* * *

As the obelisk fell, as the first universe formed, the shards fell.

Some fell and formed harmoniously, asleep and at peace, flowing seamlessly through darkness like a ocean of light. The essence of the Daughter fell in this ocean, enlightening and unshaping as it swims free in glistening ether. It was the sea of souls, a turbulent immaterial above, below, beside, and enveloping the material world. The ether was the Realm of Souls.

Others fell and formed disharmoniously, awake and enraged, grinding against each other while eating the endless dark. The essence of the Son looked curiously, only for the shards to lash and bite. The essence screeched and squealed against the uncountable fang-like shards, ripping and piercing as whatever left of the Son faded into the discord. As the discord was GOLB.

Longer than what was possible the Crimson God sat over the Realm of Souls as his breath formed the first universe. At times, GOLB would sway a thousand formed hand through the ethereal ocean, curiously and almost jealously. His uncountable eyes burned as he spat the plant of unlight for it was the last of the Son's essence, he saw it fester, he saw it grow and wrench the light away. It destroyed the universe so spectacularly, and it did it again, and again, and again for countless times.

Then he saw the Realm of Souls churn in discord, unorder, and chaos. The raw emotion of trillions of dark emotions, anger, fear, despair, pride, and hate disbalanced and churned the ether, for it births nightmarish creatures from it's darkest parts, areas of abstract, and entities of blue, red, green, and pink.

The blue was ambition, intrigue, pursuit of knowledge, evolution, and change.

The red was anger, rage, hatred, violence and blood shed.

The green was physical corruption, fear of mortality, self-delusion, and despair.

The pink was lust, greed, excess, depravity, and pleasure.

As each universe fell, the colors would grow as they feed on the raw emotions of those of the material realm. The red burned, the green writhed, the blue slithered, and the pink shined.

Eventually, the colors blazed as GOLB watched becoming nothing short of Gods.

The blue became Tzeentch, Changer of Ways. Meditating and planning in his evershifting Crystal Labyrinth.

The red became Khorne, The Blood God. Gleefully watching bloodshed on his Throne of Skulls.

The green became Nurgle, Father of Plagues. Humming cheerfully as he tends his Garden of Pestilence.

The pink became Slaanesh, Prince of Pleasure. Singing and dancing in his Palace of Pleasure.

After their birth, the Realm of Souls was given a new name. The Warp.

Each god sought to enter the physical world and spread their chaos, but the Lords of Order along with the ancient users of Aura engraved the Seven Chakras in every soul to silence their voices. Now, they can only spread to the disillusioned, the unawakened, and the unfaithful.

They corrupt, they feed, and they leech off everyone and everything so they can have the universe for them to mold, them to control, and them to rule undefied and unrestrained.

They cannot be killed and they cannot be stopped, for they are the most fundamental aspect of human nature; Power.

Power to rule, power to control, power to protect, power to guide, or power to destroy. We want power.

And the Warp grants such power. For the Warp is the origin of all power behind the soul. As the soul records events, it gains power through the personality that it develops, then it awakens through the form of Aura, then as they grow, the Aura grows a semblance to the one it holds.

It was this way for uncounted years, but now, since the world ended, came a new breed. During the end, a rift from the Warp formed, that sulfated the world in it's light. From that light, came power that most thought impossible. They were called; Psykers.

Psykers are those who were exposed to Warp's light without unlocking Aura or have Auroriosis, and gain immense power. When one unlocks Aura, the Seven Chakras restrain the flow of energy from the Warp to control the amount of power given. As the Aura and by extension the Chakras have not been unlocked, it causes the amount of energy that the soul usually produces to skyrocket, leading to the recipient to gain power usually in the form of psychic abilities, hence the moniker; 'Psykers.' These abilities will vary from person to person as unique abilities will manifest in a way similar to semblances. Semblances for Psykers are much more potent and explosive in power than semblances for Aura users due to the aforementioned Chakras not being established.

This power comes at a terrible cost. If one is weak and is tempted by the Gods of Chaos, they will be enslave by their daemons and forced to live as messengers of the Gods. They will be mutated minorly by their god as sign of allegiance. Warped by Tzeentch, illed by Nurgle, maddened by Khorne, or ravaged by Slaanesh.

However, should they overcome the daemon and prove worth to their god, they may be granted favor, becoming Champions of Chaos. The champions of Chaos will be granted further mutations and control over hordes of Daemons.

Should they continue to prove worth, they maybe granted the honor of throwing away their humanity entirely, becoming a Daemon. These are Daemon Princes; there they shed human form and one provided by their gods, granted power beyond their dreams.

For the Grimm are not the only threat in this Tale of Nowhere.


	7. How We Fell

Townsville:

The sirens blazes as screams fill the air, everyone grabs whatever they want and need while they rush for the shelters. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup flash back and forth around the city as they get try to get as many civilians into the fallout shelters.

By this time, the girls were in their 20s. Blossom wore a red business dress, with a red tie, high socks, and red high heels. Bubbles wore a blue sweater and long shirt, high socks, and blue tennis shoes. And Buttercup wore a biker jacket over a green sleeveless shirt, black pants, and black biker boots.

"Okay, that should be everyone!" Says Buttercup, dusting off her hands.

"Wait, The Professor!" Cried Blossom as she flashed back to their house, hoping to get there before it was too late.

She flashed through the city at neck break speeds, flashing through the city, the suburbs, and finally she got to their house. Professor Utonium was there, readying the last of his research into a suitcase.

His hair had begun greying but beside that he looked the same as he did when they first meet.

"Professor, we have to go on!" Blossom pressed, trying to explain as quickly possible, "The shelters are almost full and the Wave is nearly here!"

"Okay, I've got everything I need for the project! Let's go!" The Professor said, getting into his daughter's arms as she flashed out of the house.

As they sped to the shelters, a deafening boom rockets the skies. Behind the father and daughter was an everblazing and everspanning wave of flame, dust, and rubble, spearing through everything like a hot blade through plastic. Buildings uprooted and crumbled, trees fly in the flames to flay into ash, the winds slash apart, and the ground uproots.

They speed and flash to the shelters, dodging falling debris and buildings, outrunning the crumbling streets. Blossom saw her sisters signaling her to where the shelters are, vanishing in a blur as they speed down the entryway of the shelter with Buttercup dialing in the code to close the door.

In that fraction of a moment, she slowed perception of time down to a crawl.

She saw the Wave as it approached, the flames shimmer and spiral artily, the clouds of ash and dust behind an unpierceable black shroud, rubble flying in a crackling yet slow and methodical, and the shards of glass gleam in burning light. In this storm of death and light, Buttercup saw one thing near her, still in tact. Walking over and pucking it from the air, she found it was a picture of Buttercup and her family hugging together.

Buttercup gazed at the photo with a small nostalgic smile before speeding back to the shelters as the doors close and the Wave blazes away Townsville.

* * *

Peach Creek:

Ed Hill, Eddward Vincent, and Eddy McGee were running like maniacs with bags containing supplies as fissures open through out Peach Creek.

Ed was 22 years old now, wearing the same clothing as usual but they're adult sized and he now has a beard. Double D was 20 years old, he wore a leather jacket, light green shirt, black pants, and black shoes. His hair's been dyed green with a purple streak. Eddy McGee was 21 years old, he wore a yellow flannel shirt over a pale blue shirt, blue jeans, and red polished shoes.

And all of them were carrying a crap load of bags as they raced to a garage by the edge of Peach Creek.

"Armatae!" Double D shouts as the "Initiate Protocol Armageddon!"

_"Protocol Armageddon initiated."_ Project Armatae replied as the garage began rumbling. Suddenly, a massive and very advanced-looking spaceship burst from the ground.

"What the hell's that?!" Eddy shouted as the fissures grew larger and the cul-de-sac fell away into the pits of lava rising. "I'll explain later, come on!" Double D shouts back.

The 3 scramble to the ship, throwing their bags in the cockpit frantically. Suddenly the ground shook and fell away, Eddy screamed and grabbed onto the edge as the other two grabbed onto his arms.

_"Master, I know you will not like this,"_ Armatae said as they try to pull Eddy up, _"But I believe the most logical decision is to let Eddy go."_

The Eds all look at the suit incredulously, "WHAT?!"

_"I understand you're reluctance, but I doubt we will have enough sustenance to last for a few weeks after the blast comes our way."_

"Guys!" Eddy yelled before the two even had a chance to think about what the suit said, holding on for dear life, "Our lives isn't just a load of comedic episodes! It's the in between that counts!"

As he talked, the lava rose and the cracks grew. Armatae would have said, "Master, we have to go." but Eddy continued before he could.

"14 years we've known each other! 14 years we've lived together in this neighborhood!" Eddy yells. "And we've been there for each other! We've had our backs, ran scams, fought together, and even became the hosts for animal spirits!"

"Which I am still convinced was you and Ed hallucinating," Double D added.

"Yeah, that was a very weird time," Eddy shrugged before continuing, "But above all else, we've been through thick and thin, countless beatings, and humiliations, but each time we were the glue that held each other together."

The two look touched at that.

"Guys, there's a very huge chance we're gonna die anyway." Eddy pleaded, as the world crumbles around them, "So, we can either die alone or we can die together. 3 old friends remembering the friendship they had one last time. I know which one I'd prefer."

Ed and Double D look at each other and nod. They pulled up Eddy and the 3 quickly dive into the ship, while Double D starts it up.

* * *

Empire City:

A 25 year old Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable ran down the halls of Drakken's lab. Something needed to be done before this was over, and they knew exactly what it was.

The two kick open a door, revealing a haggard looking Shego by the controls of the observation room.

"Hey, Shego. Been to long." Kim growls at the villainess who giggles insanely in return.

"Well, well, well, Kimmy." Shego grins widely, "You're right, it has been to long."

The villainous lobbed many orbs of green at Kim and Ron who dodged, the latter did a flying kick at Shego who blocked and counterattacks. Ron flew back while Kim and Shego traded blows, dodging, kicking, punching, and blocking at rapid speeds as Kim slowly overpowers the villainess.

"Why did you help them with this, Shego?!" Kim demands as she dodges an orb, "Your brothers would never want this!"

"SHUT UP!" The black hair woman shouted with an look overflowing with rage on her face, "YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME THAT!"

Shego leaps and kicks Kim away. Before she could react, Shego grabbed Ron by the neck as both neared on the cliffside where her orbs impacted the walls. Kim freezes.

"Go on, do it." Shego sneers, with her arm around Ron's throat whom struggles against her, "Do it. And we both go down and you win."

Kim hesitates, looking at her weapon while Ron continues to struggle.

Shego almost laughs, "Go on. I'm dead anyway." She chokes out, shifting against Ron's struggles, "I always was, wasn't I? I didn't know that 'til now. That's how it is, right?"

Kim lets out a shaking breath, pull out her weapon and aims.

"No, No." Shego blurts out, "I can still do this. I can still do this." She shakingly ignites one of her hands, "Just one more fight. It's all I've ever known."

Ron suddenly elbows her in the ribs, causing her to let go. Time seemed to pause as both Kim's and Shego's eyes widened when Ron performed his next move.

He uppercutted Shego.

The blow knocked the villainess off her feet and over the edge. The last of Team Go screams, flailing and grasping at the air as she falls to her death.

Kim and Ron pant as the former stand next to the latter on the edge. The sky was flaring, the dust was rising, heat blazed, and wind booms as they see a wave of flame in the distance.

The two look at each other, almost lovingly. Ron smiles and wraps an arm around Kim and pulls her close. Kim smiles while laying her head on Ron's shoulder.

* * *

Satyra HQ:

"RUN!" was the only word that reached Fred's ears as he and many Faunus and Mobians raced to get to the shelters. Eruptions of rock and magma flew as the base tore apart from the force of the blast, the skies flare, the dust flails, and the clouds rush.

Suddenly, the grounds collapse as the remains of the terrorist organization fall apart. Many members scream, flailing their arms as the fall down the hole. Fred managed to grab Suzaku before she falls.

"Hang on!" Fred tells her, struggling to keep his grip as the ground continues to crumble, "I won't let you fall!"

Suzaku looks to Fred with saddened eyes, "You can only save those who want to be saved."

Fred's eyes widened, immediately knowing what's about to happen.

"No!" He begs, "Suzaku, don't-!"

"Tell everyone," Suzaku cuts him off, "I'm sorry."

Then Suzaku Akimi, last of those who follow Satyra, falls to her death.

Fred just stares at the whole, trauma written over his face, then the voices came. Wither he finally snapped or it was a guilt he unknowingly had, they ate at him with 4 simple words.

'Was it worth it?'

He listened to those 4 words as they repeated over and over, he thought about all that he did, the lives that he took, those that declared their hate for him in their final moments.

Then it hit him, he joined Satyra because of his hatred for humans but Satyra was the main reason for their hatred. He only made the hate grow, he only made his kin more hated and more feared.

Tears fell from his eyes as he whispered his answer to the voices.

"No, it wasn't worth it."

* * *

Beach City:

Steven, his father, the Gems, and the Bravo family barely manage to get as many of their friends to Midgard as they could, some they had to leave behind as they couldn't carry any more. Johnny managed to convince the other Gods of Asgard to allow the mortals to live there for the time being, but some remained unsympathetic to their plight.

The Gems and Steven look down on the edge of Asgard, down to their old home. It was nearly flooding with flames and ash, a blanket of darkness followed the flames, severing the sun from the earth.

Steven fell to his knees, "Our home." He whispered as Amethyst wrapped her arms around him along with Garnet and Pearl.

"Steven," Pearl says to the boy, "There was nothing we could do."

He nods sadly, "I know, and that why I'm sad."

* * *

GrimmFall:

Sebben walked through the ruins of the city, looking to the oncoming storm. His usually combed back hair now unkept and disheveled, his white suit torn and lightly burnt, and his eyepatch missing, revealing the Gem of Sight burning like the stars of the universe.

As the world crumbles, he decides to give it one last go. Phil closes his last remaining eye, concentrating for the gem to give him one last vision.

_Many titans of darkness, one from the stars, another from science, the rest from memories, they quake the cold and merciless ground as they walk through the lightless, endless winter._

_Forests of metal with beasts of steel, two prophets, one adorning a mask of gold, the other adorning a mask of silver, underground cities, one devoted to protection, others devoted to survival._

_Humanoids ripped apart only to reassemble, things long and lean, eating and growing, a mass of machinery and Grimm, and builders of old building once more. The embodiments of Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Envy, Wrath, and Pride._

_The eldest of the titans looms over the mountain only for the mountains to flare in light, taking the titan with it. The titans slowly sleep, some go quiet, others go loud, but soon all titans sleep._

_An old man then appeared, clad in ragged cloaks and with a long white beard,"One day at a time, it'll reach it's bottom, then the only place left is up."_

Phil blinked, then had a smile go on his face.

He looked to up to the sky, "You know what? I think that's all I need."

* * *

East Coast:

The Gundam and MEGAS pilots walk to the edge as Bugs, Daffy, and Lola stagger and limb to them, exhausted nearly to the point of comatose. Red lightning burst from the sky as the flames slowly consumed the cities. They can only watch as they knew what was happening.

"Are-" Lola gulped, "Are we gonna die?"

"Probably." Jamie replies bluntly, in an incredibly tired voice.

Lola then turned to Bugs, with absolute misery flooding her expression, and kissed him. He kissed her back.

The others were amused.

Daffy scoffed, "Saw that coming."

"You and me both." Makenzie chuckled.

They stare off into the blaze, looking immensely tired. The unholy red growing larger with streams of purple and orange. They see stones and trails of dust floating and breaking apart around the energy field.

"So, this is how it all ends?" Akira asks, "All of this destroys the planet and humanity?"

Yula nodded, "Pretty much."

They then look to the moon with exhaustion. It was still red, but there were millions of crimson streams that twirled and reformed around it, along with white streams that circled in helix patterns. Despite their world ending, they couldn't help but to be mesmerized at the hollowing yet beautiful scenery.

"You know," Rele says, looking at his comrades, "With all the monsters, other dimensions, aliens, demons, gods, Grimm, and what not, maybe the Reset isn't such a bad idea after all."

"Well," Mackenzie looked on, content with dying, "No use complaining over it now."

Family and friends embrace, lovers tell their feelings, and enemies join together as they accept their fate.

"Jamie, I've just one last thing to say."

Said man groaned, "If you say, 'I love you', I swear to God-"

"No, you're the biggest jerk I've ever known." Coop clarified bluntly.

"Oh."

"You're also my best friend."

Jamie just nods, "You too."

* * *

Nowhere:

In a cavern deep in the mountains of Nowhere, sat the Daughter of Trigon. She was now 27 years old and quite beautiful, she wore a dark blue sleeveless dress, a gold necklace, and dark blue high heels.

She sat at a golden table awaiting for the followers of the Lord of Chaos for their celebration in leading the world's end.

Raven sat there, babbling, "The thing is...I had a speech. I learned it all." She then put her face in her hands in despair, "Oh, God. They won't understand, they won't understand."

"Of course they won't understand, honey." Raven looked up to see Matthew McGee standing there smugly, "I'm beyond their understanding. They're humans. Sugar and spice and everything...useless unless you're baking. I'm more than that. More than flesh—"

Matthew then shifted to the appearance of Black Velvet,"—more than blood. I'm..." 'She' pauses, "you know, I honestly don't think there's a human word good enough for me." 'She' sighed pleasantly, "Oh, my name will be on everyone's lips, assuming their lips haven't been torn off. But not just yet. That's alright, though—"

Black Velvet then became I.O.N.E.S.C.O., "—I can be patient. Everything is well within parameters." He stares off as if looking to a camera, "They're exactly where I want them to be." He then stares back to the captive, "And so are you, Number 17. You're right where you belong."

He then appeared as Control Freak, crouching next to Raven, "So what'd you think? You'd get your soul back and everything'd go back to the way you wanted? Soul's slipperier than a greased weasel. Why do you think I sold mine?" He chuckles slightly, "Well, you probably thought that you'd be your own woman, and I respect that, but—"

Whatever was in front of Raven then took Weathervane's form, touching the halfbreed's face, "—you never will. You'll always be mine. You'll always be in the dark with me, singing our little songs. You like our little songs, don't you? You've always liked them, right from the beginning. And that's where we're going—"

It then had Sammael's appearance as he stands, "—right back to the beginning. Not the Bang... not the Word... the true beginning."

He starts circling Raven, "The next few months are going to be quite a ride. And I think we're all going to learn something about ourselves in the process. You'll learn you're a pathetic schmuck, if it hasn't sunk in already. Look at you. Trying to do what's right, just like them. You still don't get it. It's not about right, not about wrong..."

It walks out of sight before Raven turned around to see it as Phil Ken Sebben, "It's about power.

* * *

The energy burst across the world, destroying everything. The sound of fire and death boomed in the waking chaos. Humans, animals, entire civilizations, and ancient cultures long forgotten, wiped away in a moment. Crevasses bursting with magma, debris exiting the atmosphere, forests and deserts burning and glassing. The dying screams of the many fall in abyssal silence.

The oceans and arctic disappear in the black clouds, mountains and landscapes crumble and dissolve. Echoes of the dying drown in storm and flame. Cracks and crevices being formed and destroyed. Crimson lightning blazing like bloodstained arrows, the sunlight fading from the world as the dark clouds cover the world in a blanket of ash, fire, and darkness. The piercing wind uprooting the dead flora and fauna, the flaming clouds spreading their ashes over the red desert. The once green plains are now red, never to bloom again. Every crack, pit, and plains coated in the world's blood. The ocean once teeming with life, now has little. The sky becomes a crimson hue, the dead world now roams with nothing.

There is only silence as the once living world continues spinning.


End file.
